The Fall
by droolingfanfemme
Summary: *FINALLY UPDATED!* An alternate take on events of the game. Chapter 8. Duty Calls, Family Weeps. Balthier-centric, but omni-narr. Contains OC, but not romantically.
1. Of Things to Come

Author's note: Hello, welcome to my story. Obviously, I don't own the characters, save one. I'm sure you'll be able to tell quickly. All glory to Square Enix. Please comment on this. This is my first fic on FFXII. I do have more chapters coming. Please enjoy!

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He closed his eyes and let his weight disappear. Sleep overtook him quickly. 

The sudden change in pressure jolted her to consciousness. It took half a second for her eyes to realize her bed was occupied by a man. For a heartbeat, she wanted him to take her. The initial shock sat her up and threw her towards the foot of the bed. The man rolled forward towards her and threw a hand over her mouth, silencing her, pinning her face down on the bed. She screwed her eyes shut, panic setting in. The young woman swallowed hard and prayed it would be over quickly.

"Treska, look at me," the voice behind her whispered. It was familiar, calming her briefly. She nodded slowly, and quietly rolled over. Recognizing her brother, vaguely in the little light there was in her chambers.

"Ffamran, what are you doing in here?" She sat up and arranged herself. "I thought you were-"

The reprimand was cut off by a loud crash, the hall door flying off of it hinges. Ffamran leapt to his feet and caught her by the shoulders. "I'm afraid I must be off. Troubles at work, unfortunately…"

"What have you done? What have you done to this house?" The conversation continued across the room as he briskly walked -he never ran- to the large casement.

"Ah yes, here I am coming to you in mortal peril, and your worried about the family image. Such a dutiful daughter, servant to the house of Bunansa. I'm certain you and Father shall have a wonderful time arranging afternoon tea for him and his new invisible compatriots." He stopped a moment for her to catch up, dressing robe trailing behind her. "Tell me, what do you think of the view?"

"What are.."

"As always," he said catching her around the waist, "Too slow on your cue. Honestly..." With that, he hefted her to the rail and in one fluid motion, jumped to push her off and finally clear the balcony himself. The door of her room blasted open at the same instant, Imperial guards clambering into the room, just in time to see the former Judge's boots disappear. Gabranth rushed to the balcony.

The fugitive had dived head first and spun to face his pursuer, firing upwards. The Judge reacted quickly enough to be only grazed by the bullet, leaving a red, glowing streak up his chest. Gabranth stumbled back a step. "To the lower level," he commanded his guard. "Raze the house to the ground . I'm sure Lord Cidolphus will understand." They left the room to pick up the trail.

But the trail was already beginning to cool. The siblings had landed in the deep canal. As she gathered her senses, she realized they had plummeted into the grand floating garden of the estate. Treska struggled to find the surface of the water, weighed down by her nightclothes. An arm broke the surface and looking up, saw the distorted, yet cool face of her brother. With a great effort, he brought her up, and she gasped for air, lungs burning. He had found the edge of the canal and guided her towards it. Her hair matted around her face and she thrashed wildly in the water.

"Well, that was a delight. Just a perfect cap to the evening, wouldn't you agree, darling?" She glared at him, trying to pull herself onto the dry walkway. Her robe was ruined, her brother was insane, and to top it off, she'd have to explain to her friends why there was a large gash in the Dalmascan roses.

"I'm of a mind to call for Father."

Ffamran was having a much easier time composing himself after the leap. He swept his hair back and squeezed the water from his sleeves. "I'd rather face the guards. What do you think that was, thirty, forty meters?" He pried a rose stuck by a thorn from his pants, offering it to her, as a brother. He quirked an eyebrow, waiting for her to accept this peace offering. "A rose for the lily?" he prodded. She quickly reached for it and broke the stem in his hand, throwing the bloom to the ground.

A tense moment passed between them. She looked petrified, on the verge on fainting dead away. He carefully stepped towards her, trying to make eye contact, which was a challenge. He opened his arms, trying to embrace a quick peace treaty between the two. She half heartedly smiled and inched toward him, slowly lowering her head onto his chest. She sucked in a breath, trying to return her breathing to normal. Ffamran rested his chin on her head gingerly, and closed her in his arms, swaying gently. The mark of the family crest was inked into her shoulder, easy to see through the wet night gown. "You were very brave, just now."

"And you were very foolish, since you were born," she mumbled into his chest.

"I suppose I deserve that, but let's just keep that between us, hm?" There was no response.

"Ffamran, what are we to do?"

He winced inwardly. He didn't think she'd be able to think so clearly just yet. _This had to be farewell._ "Treska. Darling."

She bristled. She pushed back slightly to look her brother in the eye. "Whatever you are about to say, it had be better followed by 'together'".

"I'm sorry, Sister, I cannot- we cannot- continue on with you or we will be hunted and killed….together." He hoped that his sibling would appreciate his semantic acquiescence.

"Ffamran. You cannot leave me here. The Judges will come after me to find you. And Father. He'll…" She could not finish, but the fear in her eyes betrayed her feelings. "You cannot leave me to be looked after."

"Treska, he will not have you. He has never wanted you."

She slapped him hard across the face, the sting brought every nerve on end, sending his heartbeat to his boots and back. He seized her around the wrist, but could not follow through on any action. "When I leave, he'll consider the house fallen. No heir to continue the line. The house will fall in his mind."

"I have news for you, darling Brother," she sneered, "his mind has already fallen. Every day he toils in the lab, with no sleep, no rest. Who knows what it is that possesses him? I will die forgotten and alone, within the walls of the house. My brother, flown as a fugitive of his own justice. My father a recluse in a laboratory. There is nothing for a woman of the Empire. I am imprisoned in a house that holds no glory, a name that no one will remember, except in your infamy. Bunansa will be a curse on Archadian lips."

Ffamran looked at his sister, disapproving of what he saw. A petulant child, no more. With the concerns fit for only a woman of status. Even as her glare pierced him, but he could not reassure her this time. There was nothing more he could do for her.

"Good. It is my new aim in life."

"Oh, well I'm so glad you could include me in your little career shift. Fine then, leave me, leave here-"

There was an awful sound that issued from overhead. The siblings stopped instantly and turned eyes upward to find the familial manse engulfed in flames. Ffamran's eyes took in all they could, the flames, the stones, the flora withering from the heat and beginning to rain down. Then the most next most horrifying sound he had ever heard in his life sounded.

Treska's mouth contorted in a pained grimace served as an amplifier for her dreams being crushed, the death of the family's status. A horrible, extended moan, peaking at a shrill bloodcurdling scream. Families across the canal came to windows to watch the conflagration gut the house. Windows cracked and exploded in succession as the flames desired egress. He instinctively threw an arm around her to quiet her. The shrieking continued for minutes it seemed. A movement above caught his eye and he began to move, with her in tow, still wailing.

He could hear the metallic commands of Gabranth closing in. Bullets hit the water near the two as they made their escape. She was lagging behind, still in shock, still wet, still furious with him. She felt like stopping, holding him here, wait for the Judges to take him. He hadn't even told her what he had done. He was never one to tell, just play games, sashaying around any actual fact. The cavalier smirk he wore was hard to see now. She didn't care if he stayed. She only wanted to be wherever he was planning on going. They had to stay together. Treska tightened her grip on her brother's hand.

They rounded the corner, to a stairwell that led up to the street. They could disappear into the crowd and hopefully enjoy an unannounced jaunt to Bhujerba or Balfonhiem. He'd always considered the life of piracy. Ffamran was wondering if the idea would appeal to her when a shot rang out. A scream sounded distant. He didn't want to stop. He just felt he needed to. Treska barreled down on top of him, sending both to the ground. He then found the source of the scream, as it stopped suddenly as it knocked the air out of him.

"Ffamran! Get up!"

"Treska!" he grunted. "Get off!"

She scrambled to her feet and helped him to his. As soon as he stood, a searing pain ripped through his left arm. A small hole burned into his sleeve and a rivulet of blood began to trickle.

"Ffamran!"

"GO! Just run!"

"No!" She pulled at his uninjured arm to spur him on, but he was looking over her head to something else. Treska turned and found herself toe to toe with a detail of Judges. They had their weapons brandished, pointing at both or them. In an oddly feminine moment, she ran to her brother for protection, as if a childhood flash of lightning had frightened her. The head of the detail called up "Lord Judge Magister, we have him!"

A heavy footstep was heard coming down the stairs. The young lady looked up and saw into the face of darkness. The helmet like a demon in flight, swooped down onto them. "Judge Demen, we need to talk about your position."

"Ah, terribly sorry, did you not get the memorandum that said I would be resigning my post?" Ffamran, defiant to the end, was never one to pass up an opportunity to show off, especially in front of his sister. Especially since they were in a deadly dance such as this. Especially since he had brought her into this

The demonhead turned to her. "Lady Treskanatra, I did not expect to see you assist the fugitive."

Treska's heart was pounding in her chest. She was going to die. And it was all his fault. "I'm sorry, but you I believe you missed the bit where he was tossing me over a balcony and hoping I made a good cushion." She cast a sideways glance at her brother. She wasn't about to let him die knowing he got to be the dashing leading man alone.

"Gabranth, let her go, she has nothing to do with this. Return her to the manse you so graciously burned down, would you?"

The Judge Magister removed his helmet and handed it to an underling. He was a fair man who seemed quite serious. He smiled faintly to Treska, nodding his head out of courtesy and promptly shot again into the rogue Judge. The elder Bunansa made an odd noise, not a scream, but less than a witty retort. She held onto him, as the force of the hit, sent him reeling. She could see his jaw was clenching, biting his tongue to keep up the façade of bravado.

"Ffamran Demen Bunansa, you are charge with Desertion of Duty and Treason of the highest caliber. Lady Treskanatra Strahaliane Bunansa, you are charged with Aiding a criminal of the Archadian Empire. I am really quite dismayed by your actions, Lady Treskanatra. I really am. Your brother is not the man you father, Doctor Cidolphus is. Your father shall do great things for the Archadian Empire. Your brother is a child, wearing the title and the pistol of his father's name, neither of which he deserves. I'm sure some news of this will reach your father, Ffamran, that his only remaining son ran from the position he gave him. He only wanted you to be a great man, like himself. _Svatam_, I wanted you to be a great man. You were like a second brother to me, Ffamran. Blood."

Through all of this, the two held each other, desperately hoping for a means of escape. He wanted to look into her eyes, tell her he loved her, and was immensely sorry, and that he would make it up to it her. She was staring down the High Judge, defiantly as her brother wished he wasn't right now.

He lowered his head, close to her ear and breathed "Treska, we must do this now. We must move on my mark. Promise me you will stay here. Don't try to follow me, you won't catch me." She didn't even blink. He had no idea if she waited for a signal, or if the blood pounding in her hears drowned him out.

"Oh yes," Gabranth sighed. "And you both shall be executed immediately."

The guards were correcting their grip, ready to fire on command. Treska squeezed her brother's arm, and set out in a run. Everything around Ffamran slowed down. The scent of her floated by. Her tiny feet barely touched the cobblestone as she ran. Her nightdress, still dripping, billowed out behind her. Gabranth brushed past Ffamran and his guards parted. They even dropped their rifles and swords to fully appreciate the actions of their commander. He drew his pistol down on her. He looked back at his captive and smiled sportingly, as if this was a trick. He turned back to his quarry flitting farther away. Without even flinching, his finger hit the trigger.

But Ffamran had already run the other way. He took off up the stairs as soon as he heard the shot. His own wounds burned his arm and his chest. His sister, his life. Gone. He only looked back to see if she was still running. He couldn't see her. He thought he heard the guards running, but in his current state, could not decipher which direction they were headed. He had no time to think.

A most undignified end for a gentleman, but a new beginning for a new man. For a sky pirate. The cobblestone streets and alleyways were empty, he had not thought of that. Ffamran didn't realize this daring escape had been planned so late at night. Just when no one was looking, of course. He cursed himself for his selfish thoughts at this particular moment. He stuck to the shadows, moving silently towards the Aerodrome. It would be he ticket out and away from here. Away from her.

The dream. It had come again. Always an ill-omen of things to come.

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That's Chapter One! Questions, Comments, Concerns? Chapter 2 soon to follow 


	2. Interlude in the Sky

Thanks to DeSaints for the review! Please stay tuned for more updates! Again I only own those which are not the intellectual property of Square Enix. Please enjoy!

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The sky pirate gazed out over the land far below him. He had given up this public mode of travel for some time now. He greatly appreciated the roomier accommodations of the transport and the other passengers were quite lavish and quite easily relieved of their valuables, when found in the airship's tavern. The stewardess behind the counter of the onboard shop had been giving him in the eye since he first started talking to the other stewardess of the other counter, opposite hers. He wondered briefly if both would be up for a nightcap, in the event they were relieved of their posts. His smirk must've escaped his thoughts and on to his face, because the other fugitive was staring at him, not at all amused.

"Balthier…"

"Nothing, at all. Just wondering what the assignment schedule is on board this flying hotel." His half-lidded eyes, from lack of sleep, came off as an assumed aloofness. Not out of the ordinary, to Basch. "Basch, old man, what you do say about that beauty other there? Behind the concierge?"

The soldier squinted slightly, his own eyes a bit bleary from the travels. "Which one?"

"Either. I'm not feeling choosy today. My appetite is a bit off of late. The Empire is a dish that does not agree with my sensitive stomach."

"You should try Vaan's cooking, then," Penelo squeaked from behind. "That will make you stomach turn inside out."

"Penelo!" Vaan hissed. He was slightly turning pink, and playfully punching his friend in the arm. She laughed, carelessly, smiling and sticking her tongue out in mock disgust.

"If the boy's candlelight dinners for two leave something to be desired, allow me at some point to show you my skills," Balthier purred. He meant nothing by it, he would never do anything to the girl. Just done merely for reaction. At this point, hers of choice was a wide-eyed unblinking shock, with a dash of jaw-dropped akwardness. Bullseye.

Ashe narrowed her eyes. "Why am I of the impression that Balthier's expertise is relegated to one room other than a scullery?"

Penelo's jaw dropped even further and a little gasp escaped her as she turned her eyes to the princess and then to confirm what she had heard with Vaan. Ashe wore her mouth to one side in a victorious smirk. Balthier sucked in his cheek, and arched an interested eyebrow.

"Princess, I am surprised at you," he lilted. "I hardly knew you know what the scullery is and its purpose."

The Viera had rejoined their group. "I assure you, neither does Balthier." It was not her nature to partake in Hume humor, let alone her partner's predelicitions. It was a sign she was becoming more at ease with them, to let her guard down the slightest.

"Oh, Fran."

A tone sounded overhead, catching the party's attention. "Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention, please. We will be landing in Archades in approximately one hour. Please make any arrangements for disembarkation in the next few minutes. Thank you."

"I'll go and gather our equipment from the berth," Basch said. "If you will accompany me, Lady Ashe?" She nodded curtly. She was stiffening up, her demeanor beginning to chill. She was preparing for combat. She passed by him and he lowered his head in respect. The two walked off into the lower deck.

"Vaan, let's go to the observation deck! I want to see everything I can of Archades!" Penelo tugged at his arm excitedly. "Are you two coming?"  
Balthier crossed his arms, and leaned back a bit. "My dear, I have seen this city too many times to count, and I think Archades would agree. You two go ahead." The young adventurers ran to the huge glass wall hungry to see the capital of the Empire.

"What are we to do? We didn't bring anything else aboard." The Viera sat down on a long sofa that comprised an outer ring of the observation deck.

"I have an hour. I'd like a drink before we touch down. You are more than welcome to join me." He offered an arm, but she politely refused.

"I shall wait here for the others. From here I can keep a watchful eye."

"Fran," he said, discreetly putting a hand on her cheek, "they have to grow up sometime."

"I meant on you, Balthier." She looked up at him and smiled. He laughed to himself and patted her on the shoulder as he made his way to the tavern below decks. The two stewardesses looked at each other, tossed their hair about and tried to capture his attention. Not this time.

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What a setup! Please R&R! I do!


	3. The Walk of Queens

Hey Fanfiction readers at large! Here's chapter 3. Please review!

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The streets of Archades were more than Penelo had ever dreamed. The structures soared far overhead, far above any spire of Rabanastre. The women wore the gowns and dresses in broad daylight that she had only dreamt of. She wanted to be here, forever. She stood in a quiet awe of the bustling city as Va'an trucked his belongings off the freight.

"Look, Va'an! So many people!" She was living her dream. No more sad life of orphanhood for her, she decided she would live a new life here, in the Empire, no matter what. She was considering what would be a good new aristocratic name for her, when she couldn't quite recall Balthier's family's name. _Had he ever said it?_ "Penelo, you must keep your outbursts to yourself. We are no guests of the Empire today," came the curt warning of Basch. "We are in enemy territiory now. We must do nothing to call attention to ourselves. We must do what we came here to do, no more, no less."

"I'm sorry," she whispered. She really was ashamed of herself. She wouldn't even be here if it weren't for the chaotic situation that brought all of them together. As she fell into an inconspicuous file with the rest, she thought of her life now. She was an unmissed runaway, no parents to worry of her return. Hardly a shopkeep to realize she had left. Migelo. That old lizard would just get Kytes to take over her duties. She was a sky pirate in training now. Soon she would be plundering from the vast wealth of the Empire, taking anything she wanted, and the envy of all. Boys- _no, men_- would be falling over themselves to hear her stories of adventure. This is what is must be like. She would be like Fran.

She mused for a moment on her Viera companion. Fran was an uncommon being in the world of Ivalice. The Viera were few and far between, living primarily amongst their own. But she had come from the colony for reasons she could not understand. She was massive, in a powerful sense. Anywhere they went, she was the focal point, just on sheer basis of her appearance. Penelo wondered if she ever would be that tall and shapely. She tried to look taller, just to be noticed by her friend Vaan. He never thought of her as a girl, just as a curmudgeon since they met. She floated through a myriad of instances when they were almost more, but they always met the same end. Just a friendly glance, and nothing more.

Ashe, she thought, was the pinnacle of power. She never betrayed what lay beneath the surface of that calm exterior, much like Balthier. She was a princess, a rightful queen, her rightful queen, heir to the throne of Dalmasca. How she had given it all up for love, it was so romantic. She watched her under fire, when directly threatened with death. Ashe did nothing to betray her heart. She did all for the kingdom. Penelo would be like that, just so she would see her as an equal, at least an ally. She raised her head and tried to glide her steps, like a lady should. A balance would need to be struck between lady and sky pirate. She watched how Balthier walked. Surprisingly, it seemed just like Ashe's, but with longer strides. He seemed to want to stand out though, chest lifted and chin up. Ashe was more sunken at present moment, but she was in hiding.

"Penelo, catch up!" She had lagged behind by whole lengths. She ran to catch up with them. Her dreams weighed her down for a moment. The girl was too young to be here, Basch thought. She and Reks' brother. He was the spitting image of him, but too eager for combat, too eager for bloodshed. Vaan burned with a fire to prove himself, he saw. He burned himself, not for acclaim, but for redemption. He had to prove to his mistress, the true heir of the throne, that he was worthy of service. He was not as loyal, he thought as Vossler. He had nearly destroyed them. He would have to give his own life for hers to be redeemed in her eyes. _Svatam_, the eyes of the citizens of Dalmasca.

"Basch, is something on your mind?" the princess said lowly, trying not to be heard.

The soldier paused a moment, before he spoke, to actually think of something to say. "I have not been here in years, My Lady. It seems much different to me now. Not the great mass I remembered it to be. Forgive me, I should be more observant."

"No it's all right," she said. "I have been here myself and cannot recall anything familiar. Two years of running…"

"Two years of chains." He did not meet her gaze, and would not for some time. She had hit a raw nerve, which was uncommon. She was usually more mindful of his past, and implications of the end of reign. He did not wish to lose his temper. He inwardly hoped that he could make use of her insult later.

The adventurers found an open plaza in the city. A fountain bubbled in the center and it was a silent consensus that found them drawn to it. Penelo sat on the edge with Vaan as he cupped his hands and drank from it. Balthier, in an uncharacteristic move, lowered his face to the water, pouring water over his head and scruffed his hair. It was a bit warm out, but the passersbys refused to sweat in public.

Vaan looked around, wiping his mouth on his arm. The Empire's capital was a huge place, just the plaza was the size of the eastern square back home. Buildings cast shadows over the fountain, keeping the water cool. "Okay, so now what do we do?"

"We must find Doctor Cid's laboratory," declared Balthier. "Access is limited to only the scientists who work there, and only the highest echelons of the government. He has been dissecting nethicite for years. We need to find his research. Maybe we can find our next stop on this globe-trotting treasure hunt of ours there."

"How do you know what he does? Have you broken in before?" asked Vaan. This may be easier if the sky pirate had done this before. His heart lifted a moment.

"We'll need to come back here in about three hours." He was dodging the question, but Vaan thought it was best not to know at the moment. Balthier did not reveal information about himself that did not pay out quickly. "I need to go find some rather secretive persons, now. If you'd like to mill about in the immediate vicinity, I shall return at some point later this evening. If you'll excuse me." He slicked his hair back and adjusted a ring of his left hand. He tightened his mouth into an unemotional smile and walked away from the fountain. Vaan caught up to him.

"Where are we going?"

The sky pirate turned towards him. "We are going nowhere. _You_ are staying here. _I_ am going off."

"But what if you run into trouble, Balthier?"

"Then I shall be back a bit later than I expected." He was begin to grit his teeth. "Stay here with your little paramour, Vaan. I need to do this alone."

"But-"

"Fine! Come with me." Balthier turned towards the others, and motioned that Vaan was coming with him. As soon as he had turned back around, he grabbed the boy by the back of his vest and lifted him to his toes. "You will be silent; you will do as I say. Do not try to help, for you will only get yourself killed and I will not save you. Tell me you understand this."

"Yeah. Yes, alright! Put me down!"

He released his grip on the boy and began walking again. "We will need to meet an old acquaintance of mine. I personally have no interest in seeing him, but we really have no choice in the matter. He can get us in. Follow."

Vaan grudgingly did so, already beginning to regret this decision. "She's not my girlfriend," he muttered under his breath.

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Ooohh...reconnaissance...See what happens next! 


	4. An Exercise in Observation

The fourth chapter! Square owns what I don't. You know the drill. Please let me know what you think.

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The night in Archades was no different than the day. People were still shopping, laughing in the streets. By now, Vaan and the rest of the lower class would've been under the city of Rabanastre at this time of night. Now as a fledgling sky pirate, the stars of the city were his to watch as long as he liked. Balthier was in sour mood, had been since they got to this place. The boy wondered if was because of his company. He had been brash to tag along when he knew he wasn't wanted. But a sky pirate was not concerned with what other wanted. Only himself and the open air. 

Balthier had not moved since they had stopped. His person had not shown up. Or had he? Vaan had no idea who to look for. They were in a posh open air shopping market. The workers didn't shout their wares like in the bazaar, but people still showed interest. Women laughed and whispered over the stalls, sometimes meeting Vaan's gaze and looking away quickly. Three over the course of the night had openly approached the two. Balthier showed no interest in them, much to their chagrin and Vaan's surprise. Nothing had changed, not a bit.

"What's going on? What are we waiting for?" The young adventurer groaned. "We're just sitting around. Nothing's getting done!"

Balthier just looked at him appraisingly. "Boy, there is more to covert missions than just running in, banners high and guns blazing. There is a delicate refinement that goes along with it. True, it's a tad on the boring side, but it's that part that makes the leading man of any story more admirable. Being able to wait, to observe. You've much still to learn, Vaan."

His grumbling student stared blankly. "You haven't taught me anything. We're just sitting here." He leaned against a tree and sighed.

"All right, then, answer me this."

"What?"

"A woman just passed by us."

"Yeah, so?" Vaan turned his eyes toward where he thought she was.

"No looking. An experiment in observation."

"Fine." Vaan closed his eyes, irritated, but concentrating. "What about her?"

"What color was her hair?"

"Brown."

"Correct," the sky pirate said. "But that was just the first round. What was the emblem on her brooch?"

"What?"

"You heard me, my little protégé. The brooch on that ample bosom of hers. What was it?"

Vaan wouldn't have used such terms, but if Balthier used the phrase, it must have been highly cultured. "Um, I didn't really see it. Wait a minute, was she wearing one?" The pirate said nothing. "Is this a trick question?"

Balthier laughed. "It was a Falcon." His charge's eyes turned down, slightly upset that he was wrong. "But it was a good guess. If she hadn't been wearing one, I'd've still asked you the same question. The point is that you must remain observant, Vaan. Take in everything around you. Use what you can. We'll try again. I'll give you a moment." He turned towards the shopping area, to pick out a certain test subject. He needed a game, to take his mind off of things. Jules wasn't going to show up. The most minuscule detail he could find. His eyes flitted about over fabric patterns of clothes, colors of purses, designs of jewelry.

He saw his mark.

"What? Find a good one?" Vaan said, trying to look where Balthier was staring. The sky pirate didn't move, didn't even blink. He started off toward whatever he was looking at. Without realizing it, he found himself following again.

He looked as if he had seen something terrifying. Again, never running, but determined. He was hunting. "Balthier?" He was waved to be quiet. The chase took them farther away from the market. Here, store windows were dark and reflected the chase. He seemed unsure of where he was going_. It just could not be_.

"Where are we going? Should I go back and get-"

"For the love of Galtea, shut your howler!" The outburst made a few stray shoppers turn around to face them. Vaan shrugged and they continued. "Time for practical use of your skills, boy. Look for a woman with a mark on her shoulder. The shape of a Galbana Lily. You know what those look like?"  
"Yeah!" he said brightly. "It was Reks'-"

"Good. Find her!" Balthier had no idea what he would do once he found her. _Damn that, what was she going to do? _He was a wanted man now. "As much as I hate to admit it, right now, you're eyes may be a bit sharper than mine. She was wearing…." He trailed off a moment. "What _was_ she wearing?" In that heartbeat, he knew he had failed his own lesson. He had absolutely no idea what she looked like. "She has dark eyes, dark hair, waves like sea. And a temper like a feral coeurl." He was recalling an image from years ago, he hoped it was still accurate.

Vaan looked around, trying to prove himself with the pirate. With little light here, he could not differentiate between hair shades. He would have to rely on the lily. What would Balthier know about her temper? Was this another secret from is past? They had gone down a smaller side street.

He saw it. "There!" he said pointing at a woman's back. "That's her!"

Balthier spun on his toes, and clapped the boy on the back. "Where?" His student waved his pointing finger again. The woman turned around, not hearing what they were saying. She was talking to some other woman with basket over her arm. They had gone the wrong direction, it seemed and were about to double back to the market proper. His heart stopped.

_Treska._

It been nearly five years since he left. She had grown into a woman now, almost his height. She had the family's trademark nose and chin. Her eyes seemed bright like long ago. The mark on her shoulder exactly as he remembered it. She and the other woman walked arm in arm as they headed back to the lit quarter. She carried herself like a proper gentlewoman of the highest caliber, a lesson never forgotten.

Balthier thought he saw the remains of the estate. It was probably rebuilt by now. If it was inhabited by his father and sister, well that remained to be seen. He was just a boy then, who had run away in search of adventure. He missed her all these years. Balthier was convinced she had been sent to her grave. He had mourned her for years, laying awake some nights trying to remember her voice, her walk. The face she made when he made some bawdy comment in mixed company. His little lily was here again, in front of him. It had to be her.

Vaan watched Balthier's eyes glaze over, lost in some memory. "Balthier, she's going to get away!" He couldn't shake him out of it. Vaan acting quickly shouted "Hey Lady!"

The two women stopped and looked over their shoulders. The woman with the mark held her nose high, cocking her head to the side. "Yes? Is there something with which we could help you?"

"Treska?"

Her face changed from one of haughty pride to another of disdain. "Do not call me by such a familiar turn, cur."

Balthier strode to them quickly, brushing past the boy. Instinctively, she backed up and stood tall. "Do not take a tone with me, Strahaliane. You brother would not approve."

"Strahaliane?" Vaan had heard that name before. He couldn't quite place it. The woman, the supposed Treska had gone pale.

"None call me by that," she breathed. Her companion seemed equally confused.

"You didn't tell me you had a brother, Treska."

She whipped her face to her. "I do not have one. None living. I am the last."

Balthier chimed in, in signature style. "Actually she does. I am Balthier, prodigal son of the house of Bunansa." He made an elaborate bow to the woman. Upon standing, he took her hand, adding, "And I am quite eligible." On that, he kissed her hand. Even though light was scarce, Vaan could see that she was blushing. Treska who looked on began to laugh, madly.

"That was not quite the reaction I was looking for, Sister." He released her shopping friend. "Would you be a dear, and take my friend on a tour of the shopping district? He's a bit new here and would like to see the best there is of the Capital." He grabbed Vaan by the arm and dragged him up to her. Her friend was giggling like a small girl and Vaan had no idea what had just happened. "Vaan, be on your best behaviour, boy. If she comes back and tells me otherwise, you shall be in for the thrashing of your life." She squealed in delight and marched the young adventurer down the alley, to the marketplace. Vaan glanced over his shoulder, wide-eyed at the sky pirate, thoroughly confused.

Balthier waved jauntily to him. "I hope your friend isn't one for sparkling conversation. The boy's is a bit muddy." He turned to see how his quip had landed. He was looking upon a ghost. Her eyes were blank, she was shivering, shuddering, trembling at her own spectre.

"Is it- is it you, Ffamran?" she whispered. Tears were perilously welling up in her eyes. He walked up to her, slowly taking her in. He sidestepped the shopping she had dropped. Balthier nodded. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. The tears lost their composure and fell from their perch. "Where have you been, Ffamran?"

"That's not important, Treskanatra." He cautiously beckoned her into his arms. She jumped to him, throwing her arms around him, sobbing. Ffamran was surprised by his sister's embrace. It as much stronger than he remembered it, but she was determined to not let go.

"Where did you go? I've missed you. I thought they had killed you."

"And I, you," he said at length. "How did you escape?" His dream, the recollection of the events, played through his mind, trying to turn up an answer.

She did not answer him. Treska was in her own world right now. "How could you leave me? How could you leave me alone? You don't know what it is I've been through."

"No, I don't. But I want to know everything," he whispered. "Everything. Here." He proffered his handkerchief from his cuff. Dry your eyes. It's terrible to see a lily wilt."

She looked at it and then to him, snatching it from him. "How many times have you used that particular line?"

Balthier frowned, feigning shock. "Never. You were always my lily." A muffled laugh came from Treska, dabbing at her eyes. "Several roses. A multitude of Bhujerban orchids."

"I thought as much," she sniffed, handing it back. He carefully stuffed it into his vest.

"I shall wear it close to my heart." He thought of meeting Penelo. He didn't even have to look at his sister, to know the arched eyebrow had been turned up once again. "Alright, _that_ line I had used on more than one occasion." Meeting her gaze finally, knowing that she had composed herself for the momentum he knew she would be the key to this. "Treska, come with me."

The light in her eyes glared. "How long have I waited to hear you say that, Ffamran."

"And how long have I waited to hear that name again. You must come with me. I am here for only one purpose-"

"What's her name?"

"Ivalice."

"That's a new one," she scoffed. "How surprisingly noble of you."

"Treska, listen to me. The world is in transition, outside this city. The Empire is in danger. Rozzaria will not be pacified any longer. Rebels in Dalmasca fight against it. The unfortunate realization is that they are correct. The Empire is corrupt and power-hungry, and cares not for its people. Emperor Gramis has lost control."

"Vayne." He brother looked at her incredulously. "Emperor Vayne now. Gramis is dead."

"This is what I am speaking of, Treska! Vayne has killed his father for the throne! We must stop him while his reign is in its infancy. I need your help."

"With what, pray tell."

Balthier thought a moment. "We cannot discuss it here. Come with me. There are people traveling with me that strive to help topple this wyrm. Please, Treskanatra." He studied her face for any kind of tell. She had honed that stone-face facade from him. Once it had meant she would not budge from a spot. What she lacked in finesse, she made up for in stubborn determination. When they were children, she defied their nannies by staying awake for six days, outlasting all of her brothers. He carefully took her by the shoulders and looked her square in the eye. "Where's Father?"

Her dark eyes blazed. "I will take you to him. We will kill him." She placed her hands on his. "We will do it, _together_."


	5. The Gilding of Lilies

Balthier was dumbfounded. Never in his life would he think his own sister would ever say something like this. _Kill Father? Well, at least now they were on the same page_. "We'll discuss strategems over dinner, shall we?"

"Bring your friends to our home..."

"Our home?"

She nodded. "Father had it rebuilt. I will speak of it later." Treska picked up her bags with a sigh. "Come, introduce me to your friends."

He suavely offered her his arm. He had no idea who this woman was anymore, but it seemed fairly certain that he should nothing to upset her at present. Somehow, this was a perfect moment. Brother and sister, arm in arm, smiling, plotting the murder of their father. Granted, a bit skewed, but, he thought, nothing incredibly remarkable on this adventure.

The lights of the top terrace of the city twinkled down, as if the light was meant for only those with the right chops. But some took a more philanthropic approach and spread itself down to the lower reach. Stars were for everyone's enjoyment, but only those closest to them received the romantic benefit.

"Oh!" Treska exclaimed. "You're little friend. He's still with Galdia."

"You're right, I'd completely forgotten." He hadn't, but he played along. "Where would Galdia have taken him, do you imagine?"

She laughed archly. "The Rafe's Croft, no doubt." She tugged on his arm to get him to follow her lead. "Once she's there, she won't leave until it closes." Treska whispered conspiratorially, "She's infatuated with the boy behind the counter. Figures if she's always there in his view, he'll have to court eventually, just for being such a faithful customer. And if she's there with -er..."

"Vaan," he supplied.

"Vaan, thank you. If she's there with Vaan, she may try to make him jealous. Let's hurry, she may be at it now!"

Treska laughed, her own shopping bags bouncing along with her. The Rafe's Croft stood a few meters away. It was a perfumery. Women still flocked the counters, even this late in the evening. The shop was small, but brightly lit. Girls in tight gowns and tall shoes perused shelves shrewdly, and attendants in high-styled wigs showed bottles of amber colored liquid. Had this been another time, it'd have been heaven itself the sky pirate mused. He held the door open for his sister, and was hit full in the face with the scents from inside.

The bell tinkled the establishment had new patrons as she entered. A slew of women waved and a light "Treska!" called out. He had not been able to see it in the alley, but the lily on her shoulder was different. It had been a brilliant red before, but now it was covered in a sprinkling of shimmering powder. Balthier touched it lightly. She moved away absently and pulled a shawl over her shoulders.

"Treska, you must simply try this! It's all the way from Rabanastre!" Galdia had Vaan by one hand and a decorative bottle in the other. She was quite in her element here. Balthier had a better look at her. She was a plump thing, with curly red hair and a patrician nose, worn high as was the apparent style. "The little province finally turned out something refined. Vaan? Ask the boy over there for another bottle, hmm?" Vaan looked at the sky pirate, eyes pleading for help. Balthier simply mouthed, "Go on, then." He turned to the attendant, who was not happy to see him holding the woman's hand. Without saying a word, or even looking, the young man thrust the bottle into his hand.

"Um, thanks. Here you go." He passed the bottle to the girl. Galdia had watched the whole scene and had her proof.

"Thank you, Vaan." She let go of her grip on his hand, finally and waved Treska closer. Carefully, she unstoppered the bottle and slowly passed the bottle under her friend's nose.

Treska closed her eyes. She was trying to place the scent. "It's familiar. What is it?"

"Essence of Dalmascan roses," her friend said, mysteriously. Treska nodded in defeat.

"Yes, that's it."

Galdia's curiousity finally got the better of her. "Is this your brother, then?"

Almost immediately, she blurted out. "No. That was just some loon from the Old City," she spat. She was thinking quickly. She did not want her brother's identity revealed. This was not the time.

"Then who is this?" Galdia was a nosy one. Vaan noticed other women around the shop were slyly attempting to listen in. As always, new news in Archades was a prized commodity. They were not about to be clothing-rich and news-poor.

The woman looked at her friend confusedly, and turned to face her brother. She looked at him in surprise. "Oh I'm sorry, sir, I didn't even see you there. My apologies." She moved out of his way, so he could reach the counter, but he declined, with a bow. "Galdia, I must get home now. It's dreadfully late." The shopkeep, looking rather beleaguered, was nodding in agreement. He took up a small wand and tapped lightly on a small gong. There was a wave of feminine disappointment as it rung out.

"I'm sorry ladies, but please, come back tomorrow. We'll most definitely be open. If have your hearts set on a purchase, please bring it to me and I shall take care of you." More quietly, he added, "Galdia? I have something to ask you, if I may." He had directed this to Vaan, who was more than ready to surrender his post. He held is hands up and shook his head. The redhead smiled broadly.

"Of course. Vaan? Wait for me outside, will you?"

"Uh..sure, Galdia." He looked to the sky pirate, who was already holding the door open for the perfumed ladies of society. One was holding up the queue.

"And what house are you from?" she sneered. Treska pushed from the back of the line, and popped three out the door at once. The rest filed out noisily into the street and separately into the night.

Vaan emerged as if he had fought through the deepest, unexplored cavern in Ivalice, gasping for an unscented breath. Balthier patted him on the back, assuringly. "You alright there, boy?" Vaan smiled, breathless.

"Is that supposed to be one of those perks of being a sky pirate?"

The elder laughed. "It can be. It takes some time to get used to it, but I'm sure you'll manage to struggle through it. There are worse ways to die, you know." He turned to Treska. She was surveying the cobblestone streets for any other people. "We need to go to the plaza and get ther others. We are guests of the house of Bunansa tonight."

"The what?"

"Let's go. All shall be revealed later." He would not speak again until they reached the plaza. Treska hung back in the shadows and watched her brother and Vaan. The woman knew no one would ever be at the house. It had been months since Father was there last, that she knew about at any rate. All the servants had left for their quarters, she hoped. There were enough bedchambers for twenty people, but she did not know if they had existing sleeping arrangements.

Vaan came rushing up near her. He peered around, unable to see her. "Treska!" he whispered loudly.

"Here!" She stepped out until he spotted her and retreated back. He came to her.

"Okay, We're going to follow you from a distance, so we don't attract attention."

She pulled out her purse. Three polished slivers of wood came out, on a chain, threaded through them. Treska unclapsed it and slid two off. "These will get you onto the Highgarden Terrace. Show them to the attendants. Do not flash them about. Do not lose these. I will need them back. Understand?"

"You can count on me, Treska."

"Miss Strahaliane, for now," she corrected. He seemed put off by the rebuff. "Not on street level. It's not proper." Vaan nodded, in assent. Bowed slightly, too. She smiled briefly. "There are how many of you?"

"Six of us."

"Fine. Three and three, then. Board the air shuttle in separate groups. Act as Gentleman, his lady, and attendant? Understand?"

"Got it...Miss Strahaliane."

"Good. Ffamran knows the way, but keep an eye out for me. I'll wait 'til I see the lot of you to move. Now go."

Vaan turned to head back but, saw they were already on their way. "They're coming now."

"Alright then, Vaan. Watch for me." She stepped out of the shadows and proceeded toward the first air shuttle. Vaan fell into stride with Balthier.

"She gave me these," he said opening his hand under his chin. The sky pirate quickly snatched them up and handed one to Ashe.

"Sandalwood?" she whispered, peering at it curiously. "What does this mean?"

"It's what the uppercrust trade in," Balthier said quickly. "Don't go announcing it, if you please. That is the fastest way to lose them."

Vaan chimed in. "She said we need to take separate transports to the Highgarden Terrace. Sets of three."

"Ah, I love this game," Balthier sniggered. "The 'gents, ladies, and attendant' ruse. No one take the roles personally. Merely done for believability." Vaan could see gears turning in his head. A more refined kind of entry. This would be another of the sky pirate's lessons and he had to pay pay attention to every move. "Basch, you go with Ashe. Vaan, you go with them. Fran and Penelo, you'll with me." He saw the group arrange themselves accordingly, with more space falling between the two sets.

Vaan stayed a couple of paces behind Basch and Ashe. The princess did fit the part of a gentlewoman well, but she had had much more practice. "Vaan, I don't know where we're going," she said low over her shoulder.

"I will attend the two of you, Lady Ashe," the soldier said. "The lad knows." he stopped briefly and switched places with him. Vaan had never thought himself a gentleman. He hoped he would be able to pass as one. Penelo, on the other hand was not enjoying her position. Balthier had an arm around Fran's waist, quite taken with the masquerade. She was seething. The girl had once again found herself in a position of subservience, even if a trick to fool the sentries. Penelo could not see where they were going, this far back. She hoped where ever they were going had nice big beds. With locks on the doors.

Ahead, Vaan saw their mysterious host approach the air shuttle. The attendant came up to her and bowed. She removed the chop from her purse and displayed it in her hand. At once, another attendant, bowing quite obsequiously, showed her to a shuttle seat. The door closed and with a rumble, lifted to the next level and across the way a bit, to the next station of the district. Balthier cleared his throat, rather loudly and both groups started toward the platform. He had taken it upon himself to act as drunk as possible, laughing the whole way and manhandling Fran a bit. She made eye contact with him, and quietly stood on his foot as he lurched toward the attendant. "My good man, take us to the Highgarden Terrace, now!"

"Y-yes sir! May I see your chop, please?"

"Don't talk to the lady like that! How dare you?" he growled.

The attendant became quite flustered, unsure of how to handle the situation. "Sir, your sandalwood chop?"

Balthier grumbled and patted himself down, patted Fran down. He knew she hated this, but it was fun for him. "Um, sir?" Penelo offered. "It's behind your ear, sir."

He stopped a moment, and stood erect. The false drunkard put his hand to his head. "Oh, so there it is." With a flourish, he showed it to the relieved attendant, who opened the shuttle door. "After you, honey-bunny," he purred at Fran. She didn't say anything. The Viera glared at him letting him know he was going to answer for that, in full. She stooped to enter the door and strapped herself in. Penelo entered quietly. "I knew I kept you around for something, girl." She turned and looked at him. He winked at her and took a seat between the two. The door closed and the three were off for the next station.

The another shuttle landed as the Princess has presented her chop. They had watched the scene their companion had put on. The second attendant shook his head sadly. "It looks like someone just earned that chop." He clucked his tongue as the other shuttle opened. Ashe and Vaan did not meet his gaze but verbally agreed somewhat. "Right this way, madam, sirs." Vaan allowed the Lady to board and waited for Basch. Basch held up his hand and ever so slightly waved him in first. He quickly caught up and sat next to her. Basch entered last and sat down. The attendant bowed and said "Please enjoy the Terrace. And do be careful of that sotted lout" The door slammed shut.

Ashe laughed heartily. "That man is going to get us all killed, I swear it." Basch did not see the humor in it. "Well, if they think him harmless, the better for us. They'll leave us be."

She arranged herself. "Vaan where is it we're going?"

"I don't really know myself. Balthier seems to know her."

"Can't really say I'm surprised," she snarked. "But if it gets us any closer to where we must ultimately end, so be it."

The rest of the ride was silent. Out the small porthole, Vaan saw the world of means and money below. Was this all there was to do? Stand around, look down on the lower levels of the city, buy perfume for hours? Vaan didn't feel so bad about his provincial roots. At least he traveled, saw more of the world than they did. They only saw the parts of the world that were on the tour, only the shopping districts. He was out exploring the unders and overs of all that he could. There was something out there that no one had ever seen and he was going to see it first. He'd be a sky pirate, unafraid of anything. There was more, much more than just walls to keep out the undesirables. Walls, he decided were for those unsure of their fighting abilities and those who thought what they had was more precious than breath. Vaan would show them how wrong they are.


	6. Prodigal Son, Dutiful Daughter

In only a matter of moments, the shuttle settled once again, shaking slightly as it touched down. Basch and Ashe looked ready to go. They both nodded to their young guide and waited for the door to open. An older gentleman greeted them. "Welcome to Highgarden Terrace." Ashe was the first to disembark, followed quickly by Vaan and Basch. He looked around for Treska. It was darker now, but the lights were glowing like pyreflies, soft and ambient.

"The others must've landed first," the soldier said. "Maybe they are already en route."

"She did say Ffamran knew the way," Vaan said. The others looked slightly confused.

"Who's Ffamran?" Ashe asked imperiously. "Did she mean Balthier?" Vaan shrugged, keeping an eye out for either.

"It may be an alias. Best not to reveal the truth just yet, my Lady," Basch said. A loud laugh was heard around a corner. Balthier's, to be sure. Ashe rolled her eyes and the three set off to find it.

She knew his story already. He had fled the Judges in his formative years and had changed his name to 'cut the ties that bind' or something along those lines. She thought she was the only one he had told. That was ridiculous, of course. Fran must know. They had been together for quite some time. But returning to his past would be a dangerous journey.

The group rounded the corner and found Balthier doubled over, holding onto Penelo for dear life. The young girl looked up and lifted her head as she recognized them. Vaan trotted over to see what the problem was.

"Now we're even," Fran said bluntly. She flexed her toes and cracked them against the cobblestone. The sky pirate wheezed a bit and held his hand up in acknowledgment. He pushed himself up using Penelo as a ballast. "I love it when she's rough."

She looked away, disinterested. She was thinking about the locks again. A woman was standing around the high wall peering at them. "Vaan, is that-?" she said. He looked up and she pointed. The woman ducked around the corner.

"That's her. Come on!" He picked up his pace as he watched to see where she was headed. She wasn't hiding at all. In fact, she was coming towards him. He didn't know if she was double backing and he stood still, watching to see which way she was going.

"Vaan, it's all right now. If you've made it up this far, there's no need to hide. People will expect you belong here, and won't say anything if they don't." Ashe and Basch were the first ones around the corner to follow. Treska sized them up cautiously. She arched an eyebrow in Vaan's direction, unsure of the couple.

"This is Ashe and Basch. They're with us."

Treska nodded courteously to the two. "We'll wait until we arrive for formal pleasantries. Please excuse my behaviour." She turned to lead them to the estate. "It has been quite a busy day. If you'll please follow me."

The rest of the troop caught up and walked down the promenade. The walls were high here, with large gardens on the opposite side, trees and high bushes peeked over. Lights were few, perhaps at the request of the families here. Down a ways, there were more lights. Treska approached a gate and waited for the rest. Balthier, she saw, lagged behind, taking in the expanse. The place had been rebuilt, exactly as he remembered it. Red brick rose into the skyline. The flat roof was now home to a small garden and another structure, unknown from this distance. The third floor balconies were a new addition, replacing the veranda that once encircled it. The floating garden had been redone, now with more fountains. The main walk was now lined with tall spire like trees and strings of lights hung between them. He did not like it. "Ladies, gentleman, the house Bunansa welcomes you."

Treska ushered them all inside. The great hall was dark, save for a couple of candles, here and there. As soon as they were all accounted for (Balthier hesitated for a moment before entering), she spoke. "I am Lady Treskanatra, daughter of the house of Bunansa. I think I may be of some service to you here. Lady Ashelia, you highness, you are most certainly welcome in our house. We may not share the same opinions, politically-speaking, but your status and stature demand only the best. I do hope my family's estate can provide you safe respite."

It was instantly clear Ashe was struck by the comment. She hadn't heard her formal name said in some time. "Lady Treskanatra..."

"Please, majesty, you and your friends may call me Treska."

"Treska,"she began again, "would you please tell us how you know of us? All of this is a bit hazy, and we must know your intentions before we can trust you fully."

"I understand." She motioned for them to follow her into another room. Big heavy doors stood open. A large open drawing room, ceilings high over head. The family coat of arms, depicting a large Sword and a Galbana Lily, with some banner waving in letters presently unintelligible sat over the large fireplace. "Please, make yourselves comfortable." Two overstuffed sofas faced each other in center over an ebon table. After the travels they had had, Penelo was thrilled to sit down somewhere soft. "If you will excuse me, just a moment, I'll fetch some refreshments. The house has gone to bed, so you're free to move about. I'll just be a moment." She went into the hall and her footsteps echoed off.

"Alright, Balthier, what is all this about?" Ashe asked. He was staring at the crest on the wall, his back to the lot of them.

"This is not going to end well, I can foresee that right now." He pulled his arms behind his head and sighed. "She is my sister. We are the last children of the family."

Vaan was perched on the back of the sofa, alternating stares between the sky pirate and high bookcases. "She called you a different name. Ffamfrit or something."

"Ffam_ran_, if you please. Even with my general loathing of my lineage, please do me the courtesy of getting my name correct." He turned and walked along the mantle, looking at the miniatures of the family. "Ffamran Demen Bunansa, prodigal son of the Bunansa line. Once I was a member of the Judges. At sixteen. Not the youngest, but noteworthy. My way was bought, in true Archadian fashion, by my father. I was the only son that lasted the process."

"You had brothers?" Penelo asked.

"Another three. Greish, Josl, Cidolphus (the fourth), and myself."

"What happened to them?"

"They turned down the commission," was all he said. His face was dark. This was obviously one story that would go untold for a while. "Treska was the only daughter born to the house. She did not have the decision to make. She was fortunate."

"I beg to differ, Ffamran." She was carrying a tea tray in both hands and walked carefully to the table. "I was the daughter. I had nothing to decide. Everything was done for me. It was quite boring. And no matter what you thought of me, I performed my duty grudgingly. That was the only thing I was ever expected to do." She backed away and let her guests pick at the light dinner she had set out. It wasn't anything fantastic, but she did not seem the type to know how to cook.

"Well in any case," said Basch, after biting into a cold cut, "we need to know how you may be of help to our cause."

Treska opened her mouth and nodded. "I will help you in any way I can. I have resources you may find useful and I know him personally."

Penelo held a mug of thick cocoa in both hands. "How? You do research for him?"

Balthier injected, before his sister could speak. "He is our father. He frequently brought his work home with him." Treska's face fell a moment. It was obvious this was not all.

"The nethicite," she spat, "has been an obsession of his for sometime. It was believed that an ancient piece of it cause the _Dreadnought_ to explode."

"We know. We were there," Fran said flatly. Treska had just seen her and pulled back unintentionally. She looked at her brother and raised an eyebrow. He furrowed his in response and quickly turned back to the group.

"Doctor Cid is most likely going to locate more. We need to find him and destroy him or at least beat him to the punch. Where is he now, Strahaliane?"

"Strahaliane? How many names do you people have?" Vaan muttered, unaware he had said it.

Both siblings stopped and glared. "Strahaliane was our mother's name, and it is now mine."

Penelo sat a moment, and a light went off in her. "Strahaliane! You named your airship after her! The _Strahl_!"

Vaan blurted out, "I knew I had heard that name before. Ever since Balthier called her that in the alley, I couldn't remember why it seemed familiar." At this, Treska burst out laughing, just as she had before. "What? Okay, I'm from Rabanastre. The country folk are a bit slow."

"No! No!" she laughed, gasping for air and waving her hand about dismissively. "Ba-Balthier?! You're joking.." The sky pirate grimaced. For the first time in a long time, Fran saw him blush.

"Is it another inherited name?" Penelo asked.

"Yes. Let us get down to the business at hand." His eyes met his sisters. "Don't. Say. Anything." His teeth were clenched hard. She tried very hard to stop giggling and straighten up. She was biting her lip and sucking her cheeks in to compose herself. "Where's Cid now?"

"Same place he's been for months, _Balthier._ The Draklor Laboratory. He hasn't come home for three weeks now." This was enough to sober up her merry mood to one of grave import. "Last time he was here, he was raving. Talking to himself, or someone that was not there. Furniture upturned in his room, glasses broken, documents and whole books set ablaze."

Balthier didn't say anything for a moment. "Then Draklor it is. Treska, is his access card still in the house?"

"I don't know, we can look for it after we're done here."

"I think that's all we're needing of you, dear. We can be on our way tonight."

Treska sized up her brother. "Absolutely not! You all must rest up before you go off to do this."

"We don't have time."

"I can unlock Father's study. You may able to find more answers there."

Ashe stood up. "We'll need any kind of information he may have, Balthier. If we can stop him from using the nethicite, we may able to weaken the Empire's fleet." She approached their hostess. "Lady Treskanatra, we would like to stay here for the night, with your permission."

She smiled broadly. "Of course, your majesty." She bowed deeply. Treska would not be alone tonight in the house. "The bedrooms are ready for your use. They may be a bit dusty, we have not had visitors for some time. May I?" she said pointing to the tray. A general assent amongst the group allowed her to pick it up. "If you could wait a moment I shall show you." She nodded and hurried out the door. They all breathed a sigh of relief, renewed with a purpose. Danger once again loomed overhead, but they were unafraid.

"Oh! One thing..." Treska had popped her head into the door. "Balthier was the name of my dog!" She beamed and went running down the hall, howling with laughter. The sky pirate was scarlet. He stood painfully straight, mumbled "Excuse me for a moment,"and went trotting out. The others were trying not to laugh.

_"TRESKA!"_

A crash of the tea tray caused peals of laughter to ring amongst them. It was the first time the house had heard any kind of laughter in years.

* * *

Isn't always grand to come home? R&R, si vous plait! 


	7. The Past's Door Unlocked

The rooms were on the second level of the estate. Treska held her tea-stained skirts up as she tripped up the steps. A large picture window stood at the top of the flight, splitting the mezzanine with rooms on either side. A seeming thousand smaller glasses in the larger caught the light of the stars, fractured them into more, and rained them upon the staircase. She had never noticed this until now. _How odd..._ Her guests followed behind her, silently. Treska wondered if they had noticed the same pools of light they walked through.

"The bed chambers are this way,"she said, holding her hand up to show the way. "I will allow you to arrange yourselves as you see fit." There was a slight pause as they all looked at each other, somewhat awkwardly. "You may leave whenever you like. I shall arrange a light breakfast for you and it will be waiting in the scullery. You'll want to leave by way of the servant's passage when you do." She curtsied somewhat and turned toward the opposite walk.

"Treska," Vaan began, "thank you."

She smiled faintly. "When you have more time between collapsing empires, you all are welcome. Ffamran, come with me, I shall open the study for you. You know what you're looking for." Again, she turned and left them to their own. Balthier watched her leave and close the hall door behind her. The group walked towards the opposite hall and let themselves into the bed chambers' corridor. The hall was dark, like the rest of the house. They were all unlocked and each of them silently entered a separate room and shut it behind them.

Except Balthier. He hadn't moved from the stairs. He was standing in a tomb. It made him nauseous to be here. The morning could not come soon enough. Balthier held down his gorge and picked up his sister's trail, down the hallway she had gone.

This hallway was surprisingly cheery, well lit. New paper covered the walls, a deep burgundy with golden leaves running through it. She looked up and saw him approach. A huge ring of keys were in her hand. It must have held every key into every door in Archades, and then some. She ran her fingers over all of them, knowing them all by touch. The one she was searching for was old, but not rusty, not even metal. Balthier was close enough now to see it was made of stone.

"Father never wanted the key to be made in the typical fashion. He feared it would react with his experiments." She fit the key to the lock and a large flat _click_ popped. "I have never been inside this room, so I do not know what kind of condition anything is in."

"It's all right,"he whispered. "We shall explore it as we used to." She put her hand on the unlocking mechanism, and he put his on hers. "Ready?" She smiled, nodded nervously. "One...two.."

"Three." They squeezed the handle and pulled on the door. For a second, they stood there, awaiting some sort of horrible gas or some sort of horrible hell-beast to spring. Nothing. Treska peered into the darkness.

"Here's the gas key," Balthier said,feeling along the wall. He turned the key and the lamps lit in the room. It was a ghastly site. Tables overturned, whole pages of wall paper pulled off the wall, complex equations and strange symbols scribbled on the makeshift markboard. Long dead embers scattered on the floor, scorch marks the only trace. Treska swallowed hard and entered.

"This is not what I thought wanted to see," she whispered. She traced her fingers across the edge of the table, finding more symbols etched into the grain. Half-burned papers littered the floor. She picked them up, and tried to organize them, but she could not make heads or tails of anything. Her brow furrowed in frustration and grief. "Tell me everything, Ffamran."

He himself was looking through the rolltop desk by the door, turned over on its side. "I don't know anything about of this."

"I meant you." Treska put the stack of papers of the bare mantle and approached her brother. "Tell me everything. What have you done? Where have you been all this time? Why did you not come back for me until now?"

This was not a conversation he wanted to have, not now. He filed through what papers were left intact in the desk. "Treska, this is neither the time or the place. I have much on my mind at the present."

"Am I not there in your mind?" She peered over his shoulder, trying to make eye contact with him. Balthier turned and she quickly followed. "Or in you heart, even?" She was not about to let him slip away, not again. She knelt down beside him and took hold of his hand. He looked into her eyes and saw what he had feared most of all: her desire to follow. He turned his eyes downward and nodded, in his defeat. They both stood and righted a few upturned chairs and the table and sat. The sky pirate heaved a sigh.

"Where shall I begin? I must admit, parts are a bit hazy."

"Where have you been? What did you do when you left?" She was dizzy, full of questions she was almost certain he wouldn't answer. She would have to start small and work her way up. "You named your airship after me? Why?"

"I thought I had lost you. It was my fault. I was utterly unmade that night. My sister dead at my hands, my doing. If I hadn't left my post, you would have lived and the house would've been revered for all time. My brothers' souls must've burned with hatred, for accepting the position, and then refusing it, unable to follow through. Yours was to join theirs, in eternal shame of our house, of me. The airship was the only thing that I needed for quite some time. It had no name, just a transport, just a getaway in those tough scrapes Fate saw fit to smack me with.

"There was a night, when I found myself in some rural backwater, just outside the Uplands. I stole into some house in the dark of night. It wasn't anything grand as you know. Merely a farmhouse. I looked about, looking for anything to eat; I figured if they lived all the way out there, they had to be living off of the land in some fashion. A small pantry was only a couple of paces ahead of me, I figured I could stock up a bit and be on my way.

"As I just barely lifted the handle when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I spun around to face my host of sorts. And I swear to you, it was your very shadow. A girl who was just like your own reflection, Treska. She did not say word, raised no alarm. She quietly raised the handle to the pantry and allowed me access. This girl even helped me carry the load to the airship, never saying anything. I was in awe of her. As soon as she had set the last bundle of dried meat on the stack, she looked at me and just...smiled. I was certain I had died and this was my eternal dream, to be with you and the rest. I even called her your name. I can assure, she took exception to that. Those dark eyes, just like yours are now, filled with tears and she ran across the fields, into the night. I had lost you a second time, watched you run away, just as you had when I did. I knew then I would never do such again. I christened the ship _Strahl_, to make sure I'd never lose you. I'd always be with you."

Treska sat motionless, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. She tried to speak, but no words would come to her. Balthier held her shaking hands in his. They were cold.

"I often ask myself if I was as brave as I thought I was," he said. "But I know our dear brothers were braver. They said no, from the beginning."

"No, Ffamran. You made a choice to do the duty the name required of you. They could not hold the name, and they died for it. You were a Judge Magister. Not even Father was a Judge Magister. Father was a horrid man, but I had to do what he said. I tried to run, so many times, myself, Ffamran, like you did. I wanted to flee, to jump from my own balcony like we did that night, remember?" They both smiled at each other, faintly.

"You were positively livid about those roses," he mused, sweeping her hair from her face. "I always knew those were your pride and joy. I didn't think we'd land that close to the house."

"The roses would never grow back. I didn't want them to. It was the last I had seen you. I missed you so much, Ffamran. After Father had the house rebuilt, I used to sit on my balcony for days. I'd hope I'd lean over the edge and see you scaling the walls one day. Father would come home every few weeks with the Judges with him. 'Bring the guests some tea, girl,' he'd say. And I soon as I'd bring it out, the Judges would take it from me and throw it across the room, and laugh about it. They'd take turns using our brothers' portraits for target practice." Her eyes burned and her breathing became ragged.

"I had to remain perfectly silent or they would turn their attention to me. There were nights I would stand stock still until sunrise. Father would sit right in front of me, staring at me. He'd smile once in a while and laugh as if he had heard something amusing. If I so much as looked at him, he'd knock me to the floor with his foot. The Judges were much less kind. And even through all of this, Gabranth would not say a word to me. He knew I knew who he was. I had seen his face. I knew how he felt about you. You were practically family. Even with that night behind us, He could not let that go. Gabranth was the only one among them who would pick me up. When the others had left, he would remain to tend to me. Only he had remorse for his actions. When Nabradia fell, he'd stay for weeks at a time. Father made me the Judge's ward, hoping I would agreeable to marriage. I could not, he knew this. Gabranth felt love for me, he had told me. 'That's why I missed that night'. That is why he did not kill me. He wanted a wife in me, but I could not give him that. I was the last of the Bunansa line and I would die with it untainted. Father was needless to say _displeased_ with me.

"I'd be experimented upon, left alone in a room with nothing for days. Father would come in with a bowl of water and a stone. Nethicite. He'd hold it in front of me, prod me with it. I'd wake up in the middle of the night and find him splashing liquids all over the room, running his fingers through it, writing in it. I'd lie awake, praying that he would not noticed me staring at him. He'd be gibbering to someone, it could not have been me. It had no effect, that I am aware of. It only hardened my resolve to find you."

Balthier was just as speechless as she had been. His heart kept jumping between his throat and that pit in his stomach. "Gabranth? Father had promised you to Gabranth?"

"It wasn't that. For some time, his affection was returned. But his past actions kept me from giving him my whole heart."

"It was wise on your part." He stopped for a moment, considering the information he had now. "Gabranth slew the king of Dalmasca at the surrender of Rabanastre."

"What?" She breathed. All the cover drained from her already pale face. "It cannot be true."

"It is. His twin brother was jailed for it. They thought it was he. He is asleep in your house right now. Basch von Ronsenburg." Her jaw dropped. She knew she felt something uneasy in front of him.

Treska stood slowly, bracing herself on the table. She felt a blush of shame and made her way to the main desk. "I loved him. I loved a King-Slayer. He never said anything about it. Was that why Father was so keen on the match?"

"There's no way of knowing that, Treska. Father lives outside the prescribed realm of sanity." He got to his feet and joined his sister, embracing her from behind. He could feel warm tears on his arms. "We will bring him down for you. He's mad, Treska. Has been for years. I'm sorry but you seem to have born the brunt of it. But you're alright now. We'll see our house restored. After this is all over, you can stand with your head high"

"And you'll stay?" She turned to face him. Her eyes were sad. "Ffamran you must, please. Come home. We can rebuild the legacy of our house."

"I can't do that," he said. A note on the desk caught his eye. He reached for it.

"Of course you can. What about the Lady Ashelia? Think of it, you could be a king!"

"That is not her purpose in traveling with us." He studied the document. It was his father's hand, to be sure, but it was nothing but the addle pated scribblings of a madman.

"Well we can't have Viera diluting the bloodline."

"Leave Fran out of this," he warned softly. He needed to turn her attention away from the thought of lineage. "Look at this. Do these mean anything to you?" He held it out to her perusal. It was of a series of concentric circles with various glyphs, seeming to surround a turret of some kind.

She shook her head and frowned. "The pattern is like one he drew in that room. Nothing happened, but I don't know if this was it or not. I don't really know what he was doing. I don't think I wanted know."

"Where's the access key, do you know?"

"I don't, but we can search this, " she said pointing to the desk. They each took one of the drawers and sat, rifling through it. A few silent minutes passed between them. Balthier's curiosity and brotherly sense of mischief was piqued . "So, Gabranth, eh? What was that about?"

"Don't start, please."

"Oh come now, Treska. Tell me about your knight in darkened armor. Was he dashing?"

She laughed nervously. "This is not a conversation for siblings to have." She looked at his face, the trademark eyebrow arched highly and the all-knowing smirk plastered there. She turned her eyes back to the papers in the desk drawer.

"You didn't..." he led her. She had no idea what he meant. He leaned back from her. "You did? Treska, Treska, Treska..."

"Absolutely not!" She spat, finally grasping his meaning. She shoved him and he hit the bookcase on the the other side. A few precariously perched books toppled onto his head. Both of them laughed for a bit. "I did not."

"But you wanted to."

She sat staring at him, blushing once again. She sucked her cheeks in. "Of course I wanted to. I'm a woman of status, I'm not dead." He laughed again, resting his head back on the bookcase. Treska walked on her knees over the few steps and rested her head on his shoulder. He threw an arm around her and stretched his legs.

"Little Lily, you are as bad as your brothers, you know? Josl was the exact same way; never acted on impulse. Whenever we would play soldiers, I remember, Cidolphus and I would be hiding in the grand salon and he and Greish would be just outside the door. We'd wait for them to come in, hallooing and charging in, which Greish would in fact, and we'd take him down in an instant. But Josl would wait for us to tackle him and then with two easy strokes, take our feet out from under us and win the game."

Balthier looked up at the bottom of the shelf over him. Something seemed off about it.

"You would never let me play, that's what I remember. Greish always said 'The Princess is meant to be in her tower, awaiting her rescuer.' I always told him, 'How is anyone supposed to rescue me with all of you running around?' 'That's the idea.' He was always so protective of me. Never understood why." During this, Balthier grabbed his dagger from his boot and brought it up to his face. He began digging into the wood. "Ffamran, what are you doing?"

"I'm not really sure, Treska." a small gap appeared in the shelf. He pried the small cover off and the panel fell onto his chest. She reached for it, absently. "I think we've found it." He extended his hand and picked at the corner of the card. After a bit of close quarter finagling with it, it finally fell loose. It was the access card to the Draklor Laboratory.

"Fantastic," Balthier purred. He sat up and rolled to his feet. "Tomorrow we infiltrate. Whatever plans he's made will now fall. Treska, thank you. We could not have done this without you."

Treska climbed to her feet. "Glad I could be of assistance." Her voice was somber as was her demeanor. "I'll show you to your room now."

"Treska, don't act like this. When we finish this, you and I will be back together. I swear it."

"You'll forgive me if I don't take you at your word, sky pirate." She was not trying to be petty, she just knew her brother.

"I understand your reticence. But I will be back for you. I promise." He took her face in his hand. "Believe me. Please."

She nodded slowly, closing her eyes. "If you don't I'll have the price on your head raised."

Balthier smiled. "You're too kind, Treska darling."

"Should I have it lowered then? It'd be a bigger blow to your ego."

He feigned a shocked expression, in apology. "You wound me to the core. Vicious little thing, you are. Come, show me to my lodgings. We'll negotiate bounties later." She led the way to the door and shut off the gaslamps in the room. It was dark, once again. Hopefully, there would never be another occasion for it to be open again. Once she had exitted, she produced the keys and locked the room with the stone key. Balthier stood waiting at the hall door.

"The layout is just the same as the original house," she said, leaving the eastern wing. "Your old room is on the second level. I do not know if it was taken by one of your compatriots."

He waved his hand in dismissal. "I never liked that room. I had a lovely view of the streetlamp just outside my window. I don't think they ever connected the shattered glass to my target practice."

"That was you. I knew it."

"How is your room? Can it fit two?" There was a bit of silence from her. "I'll sleep on the settee."

"Er, alright. There are a few extra blankets in my closet, I think. We'll set you up in there. It's no inconvience." The siblings reached the opposite hall. Treska put her finger to her lips as she opened the door. It creaked lowly and the two slipped inside. Balthier closed the door, needing his whole weight to move it. The hallway was dark, no lights from under the doors were seen. She took him by the hand and led him. His nighttime vision was more developed than hers, and he could see her feeling along the wall, counting doors they passed. They reached the door that was hers. She had left it locked during the day, in the off chance someone thought there were treasures abound inside. She kept her own keys on a separate ring, from those of the house's. The door unlocked and she opened the door quietly. The hinges were in good working order and did not groan as the other doors had.

The moon, he observed, was peeking in through the balcony, left open. The furniture was sparse, but it was when he had last been in here, five years ago. The long sofa was facing away from the balcony, a slew of books piled high in the table next to it. Two high-backed chairs split the small fireplace, a stand of needlework stood by, half completed. Only half the bookcase was full. No doubt she had been replacing all of her old editions since the fire. Come to think of it, all the furniture was different. The bed was much larger than it was back then, and not such as a young woman would have. It used to be a demurely white sleigh bed. This one was a darker wood, with four posts rising high above it. Sheer curtains moved slightly in the breeze from the balcony. The blackout shade at the foot had been raised. Again, more books, journals were found around the base, some kicked under it.

"I don't have any extra pillows for you, but the cushions are quite soft," she said. Treska was making her way across the room to her wardrobe. She saw her brother pick up one of her books. "If you could just mark the pages for me, Ffamran, you can stack them upon the floor."

"I didn't remember you being such an avid bookworm, sister. _The High Courts of Dalmasca, When Youth Fades, FarAway Tales of the Forgotten Lands,_" he read off the book jackets.

"It's not as if I have other things to occupy my time. I very rarely leave this room. The servants come to me, here. It was Fortune that put me on the street today. Galdia lives across the canal and we became friends quickly. Of course, she know nothing," she finished for her brother. She pulled out a couple of blankets from the wardrobe. She dropped one on the floor and shook another out. "They're a bit musty. Been in there for ages."

"Treska, stop." He waltzed over to her and held up her ministrations. "You've done enough already. As a sky pirate, it's very disheartening to have someone else do all the work." He took the blanket from her and nudged his foot under the other. With a smooth motion, he kicked it up and it landed over his arm. She exhaled a quiet laugh and applauded softly. He bowed obsequiously. "Now you get ready for bed, I can handle the rest from here."

She rolled her eyes, tiredly, and set off to care for herself. Treska turned her bed down and shut the blackout curtains on the right side, facing the door. A night table on the left disappeared from view a moment later. She walked around the foot of the bed to the left side. "Can you see me?"

"Not at all," he said fluffing various cushions. There was no response, but the sound of shifting fabrics told him that she was changing behind it. The settee was quite deep and long enough for two to stretch out comfortably. The blankets he arranged to his liking, one under his head and one to cover himself. Balthier followed his sister's example and pulled the ties to his vest loose.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" He looked over his shoulder to see her cover her eyes. Her nightclothes were dark, a state of permanent mourning.

"It's alright, I've been caught in less. This vest is a little too heavy to sleep in." He pulled it off over his head and untucked his shirt. "There, all done."

"Alright, then." she muttered. Treska made her way into bed. "Good night, Ffamran."

"Now hold on a minute. No kiss good night for your long lost brother?"

"Ffamran..." she scoffed. He trotted over to her and pushed the blackout shade to the side. She moved over to him, helping hold the curtain back. She sighed quickly and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Good night, Brother."

In a more genuinely sentimental moment, Balthier whispered "You look so much like Mother, right now." He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. "Good night, Lady Treskanatra." With that, he kissed the corner of her mouth. He knew that he would not return from this. After a silent farewell, he dropped the shade and retired to his sofa. He knew she was watching him from the foot of the bed. He drifted off to sleep, wondering what his father would do to him if he knew he had been here. In the coming day, he decided, he would die.


	8. The Dawn's Blissful Nightmare

The night was not one of the best night's sleeps Basch had. His bed was too soft, too aristocratic for someone like him. It made him feel guilty for sleeping in it. The room was not too big, but cozy enough to bump into the furniture in methodical pacing, which he had become prone to do. He did not enjoy being here in Archades. Ever since Landis, he felt unwelcome here. The murderous rampage his brother had shoved upon him left a bitter taste in his mouth whenever he thought of him. His sword arm itched, hoping he would encounter him again.

Next door, Ashe was having a fitful sleep, as well. Rasler had been in her dreams for some time now, but he was speaking to her forcefully, demanding Justice for Nabradia. At the Stilshrine, she had seen him in front of her waking eyes. Had Vaan seen him, as well? She felt quite uncomfortable thinking about it. Her husband's spirit would not rest until he was avenged. He had said it himself. He would not let her rest until she had. Tonight, it seemed, was no exception.

Fran was sleeping well, on the floor. She had mused over the family's strangeness. The father killed her partner's brothers for disobeying his orders. Was that normal for the Humes? Her sister had kept the tribe together for many ages. When she had left, Jote had not raised a hand to stop her, but had forbid her re-entry. She did not mind. Why had Balthier's father not just done the same? Was it so shameful to him for his sons to not comply with his will? More importantly, why had they defied him? After all of this, this adventuring, she would have to ask him. But for now, it would have to be left alone.

Vaan and Penelo were in the same room, nowhere near asleep. Originally, they had chosen separate rooms, but the two had thought better of it. They stayed in the room Vaan had picked first. Penelo had to look at everything, pick up anything in the room. Vaan was uneasy about prying through Balthier's family's things. He just wanted to sleep and be ready for the next day. The thought of a light breakfast prepared by their hostess comforted him slightly. She had no one to care for and looked very eager to help. He hoped that she had helped Balthier find something that would make this easier.

"Hey, Vaan, look at this," Penelo whispered loudly. He sat up on the sofa, looking to what she was holding. A painting or something. He must've looked less than thrilled about it. She brought it over to him, so he could see. It was almost as tall as she was. "Light that candle, will you?" He did so with a subdued Fire spell, just enough to melt about the top of the candle. It flared and she tilted the painting against the wall.

It was a family portrait. The elder gentleman looked slantways at whoever was viewing it. His gaze was quite unsettling over the rounded spectacles he wore. A woman, a little younger than he, sat amongst the clan. Her light hair was drawn back tightly, curls spilling down her back. "That must be Balthier's mother, Strahaliane. She's beautiful," Penelo, said. The boys looked just like Balthier did now; the auburn hair and thin nose. One stood next to his father, almost a mirror likeness. His hair was longer though and a bit fuller of face. On the other side, stood another son. His look was regal, a tight vest with a light shirt under it, an aristocratic frown on him. He held his hands in front of him, a large blue ring peeked through his fingers. Another was sitting on the floor, resting on a large pillow. He had spectacles, too, but not the same style as his father's. He wore a high collared jacket with large brass buttons and tan breeches. The fourth stood next to his mother, in front his father. This one was holding his mother's shoulder. He had a devious smirk painted on him. This had to be Balthier.

And then there was Treska. If the boys were all near the same age, she seemed a bit of an afterthought. She sitting across from her brother, on another pillow, a porcelain doll with big dark eyes. She was in a blue dress, buttoned just under her throat. She did not look happy to be there.

"This must've been before Doctor Cid killed the first one of them. They don't look that far apart in age, do they?"

No. Bet it was hard for them," Vaan said, staring at the family. He wished he had more brothers than just Reks. Maybe things would've been different for him. "Come on, Penelo, let's get some sleep."

She looked at him, disapprovingly. She had been exhausted since they stepped onto the airship, but seemed to be way passed her second wind. "But I'm not sleepy, Vaan!"

"Well I am," he snapped. Penelo was taken aback. She spun on her heel and jumped onto the bed. Like a child, she kicked her boots off at his head. He was far too tired to fight with her. "As soon as you quit moving, you'll fall asleep." She petulantly crossed her arms and threw herself back onto the mattress, legs dangling off the edge. He said, more gently, "We're going to need to be well-rested tomorrow, and if you're less than your best, you won't be any good out there. We all need you at your best, Penelo." He looked up at her, but she was already unconscious. He shook his head, laughing to himself and fell into a deep sleep as well.

The siblings were losing their own battles of will. Balthier was trying to stay asleep, but kept awaking up every half hour or so. It was so strange to him to be in one place for a span of time and not be in danger for it. His mind would not let him rest. He rolled over and saw his guardian angel sleepily keeping her vigil. Treska was leaning against the post at the foot of her bed, watching her brother from reddening eyes. Her head kept hitting her chest, jerking her out of sleep over and over. She had a throbbing headache, but she was determined to watch him.

There was a some space of time, neither of them could be sure, when both were finally sleeping. Probably the first time in the whole night. The two were both dreaming the same dream: freedom. Treska's was freedom from her aristocratic prison and a life like Ffamran's. Going wherever she wanted, not dreading the connection to her name and her history. His was the freedom of being rid of his father's legacy, one of madness and bloodshed. And of a family. He had never dreamt of that before. A woman, unknown to him, standing with him on some windswept shore. He could not see her face, but knew he loved her. He felt free here, with his own sons and daughter. Was this how Cid felt, once upon a time? Balthier knew instantly he was dreaming and the surge of wake pulled him away from this fantasy.

He sat straight up on the settee. The dream was gone. He was not angry, but resolved to find it once again. When his vision cleared, he saw where he was. Treska was hanging over the side of the bed, completely asleep. Her hair hung like a curtain over her face. He felt a pang of brotherly guilt for her loving intentions. He crept across the floor in his stocking feet to her bed. Balthier stood a moment regarding her. She was still the same spoiled little dilettante he remembered. Only now, she had the same angry fire that burned under the cool exterior that he carried. He thought to bring her along, have her fight alongside him, stand against the evil that plagued them, more importantly, Ivalice.

She would be brave in battle, he thought. Treska, he knew, was not strong enought to wield a sword, nor any weapon. Never schooled in any magick, unless she had taught herself, something amongst the towers of books in the room. She would fall easily to her father, but would she die in vain? If she survived, and if it was he who fell, would she think him a hero? Balthier thought on her funeral, a morbid thought, from which he tried to distance himself. The image of her in a tomb of wilted flowers was stealing into his mind.

Carefully, he lifted her to a sitting position by the shoulders. Treska's head fell backwards as he put her to bed properly. Balthier pulled the blankets she was on top of out from under her and threw them over her. Her face was almost completely obscured by the pillows' edges. She would remain here. Treska's place was not in battle. She would never be fit for anything more strenuous than choosing dresses or tea parties.

Balthier once again stood. There was no timepiece anywhere in the room, but intuitively, he knew the time was nearing for action. Retracing his steps to the settee, Balthier began his preparations for the day. His vest was rolled under the makeshift bed. He unsnapped the buckle and pulled it over his head, checking over his shoulder if Treska had moved. His boots were difficult to don noiselessly, so he decided to put them on in the hall. The sky pirate picked them up with one hand and moved silently to the door.

The streetlamps shone through the balcony still, casting a shadow ahead of him on the wall. It was strange to see himself reach for the door before he had gotten to it. In a fleeting moment of vanity, he admired the dashing silhouette he cut. The key rested in the lock. It was a giveaway of his departure. He could pick the lock from the hallway to set the key back into the locked position, but he thought his sister would like to know he left through a more conventional route this time.

The key turned in his hand and the heavy door opened. Balthier pushed it open just enough to squeeze through and slipped into the corridor. He leaned in once more, desparately trying to remember anything he could about this place. _Damn Ivalice_, he thought. _ This is what I fight for._ No treasure in it, to be sure, but perhaps this was enough this time.

With a final resolve, he inched the door closed and quietly brought the knob to position. Balthier set his boots on the floor and stood to put them on. He hated to sit and put on his boots; ruined his cuffs. As he moved for the second, he felt another presence in the hallway. One never to be taken by surprise, he glanced up just enough to recognize a soldier's boots coming slowly toward him.

"You had trouble sleeping, Balthier? I supposed this was your natural habitat."

"You know what they say, old man, about going home?" He buckled his second and pulled himself erect. Basch frowned.

"Some of us wish to try to return."

"And we shall, just maybe not from where we originated. Day is almost upon us. Let's get everyone up – quietly- and make our way to the pantry for a quick breakfast. Can't fight on an empty stomach." He started towards the first door.

"I prefer to fight that way," Basch supplied. "The hunger for retribution is harder to feed."

"I bet."

He came to Ashe's room and paused a moment. Basch decided to wake the younger adventurers first. He could send the girl to awaken her Highness.

Penelo's room was unlocked. Upon closer inspection, it was found to be vacant. There was an adjoining door, which was also unlocked. Basch pushed the door open slowly. The youth was stretched out on the sofa, hair disheveled. He approached quietly. "Vaan," he whispered gruffly. "Get up."

Vaan threw a hand over his face and grumbled. The soldier bent down and shook his arm. "Vaan! The time is now."

"Alright, I'm awake, I'm awake." The boy sat up and stretched his arms over his head.

"Where's Penelo?"

"Over on the bed," he yawned. "I'll get up." Bleary eyes beginning to focus, Basch headed toward the bed. She was still dead asleep acrossways, her legs hanging off the short end.

"Come on Penelo, time to go."

She sat straight up, eyes closed. "What? Now?"

"Yes Penelo," said Basch. He offered her his hand to pull her off. In her stocking feet, she was much shorter. Her boots must have had incredibly thick soles. "Penelo, go and rouse Lady Ashe. Vaan, gather up your and Penelo's belongings and wait on the lower floor."

Both nodded in assent and went to their duties. Basch exited the room by the front door, catching a glance at a painting standing near the fireplace.

In the hallway, Penelo was just entering Ashe's room, tiptoeing in, while Balthier and Fran were leaving hers. The Viera was wide awake, in her normal subdued demeanor.

"I was just telling Fran that our hostess will not be joining us for breakfast, but invites us to help ourselves." Balthier said coolly. "Let's be on our way, quickly."

Ashe and Penelo emerged in the hallway as the others began toward the corridor's entrance. Vaan brought up the rear with his and Penelo's armaments. The party stood on the mezzanine as Balthier took one final look into the blind darkness. He shut the door as quietly as it permitted and showed the others to where he thought the pantry stood.

The kitchen area was quite clean, perhaps from lack of huge banquets or family meals. The dry goods were kept in a large pantry, and the party made their selections. Fran gazed on the labels, not incredibly hungry. The odd palette of the upper crust turned her stomach vaguely.

"Balthier, where's Treskanatra?" Ashe asked. A split second of thought passed between them. "I see. Then let's be on our way." Vaan and Penelo were cramming the coldcuts from last night's tray into their mouths on the way out.

"I'm right behind you," the remaining Bunansa whispered. "Turn left at the end of the corridor and follow the stairs to the canal." The other five looked at each other questioning silently what he meant to do. Separately, led by Ashe, they departed.

He looked around for a moment, observed the dawn breaking through the high window here. Birds were beginning to wake outside. It felt odd to him, to be standing in the replica of his boyhood home. He wondered if it'd be too much to leave his sister a light breakfast, as an apology. It'd probably take up too much time and he couldn't spare it.

It was painful to open her eyes. Treska had had the oddest dream of her brother's return, and the plan- _the plan! _She sat bolt upright, eyes bloodshot. Fframran was nowhere to be seen. The sofa was empty, the blankets covered nothing. The window sashes were undisturbed. Stumbling dumbly to the casement, she held her breath as she peered outside. No sign of her brother. _Please, no, don't do this to me again…_

She ran for the door. The key sat in the lock still, but it had been used. He had left with out saying goodbye. Treska threw open the door and flew down the corridor, hoping she'd bump into him in the darkness. His comrades weren't in their rooms. Empty, empty, empty. Tears streamed from her eyes, heart pounding in her throat. Just like that night.

The door had been shut and locked. Her keys were still in her room! She let out a heartbreaking yelp of frustration as she double backed to her room. The key ring sat on her bedside table. Treska snatched it up and prayed she wasn't too late. In the corridor, she blindly felt for the correct key. A couple of false starts later, she found the right one and freed herself from the wing.

She leapt down the stairs, three, four at a time, leaping the banister to the first floor and ran at full tilt for the kitchen. They had to still be there. The sun was barely up. They were still tired, to be sure. They were still there.

"Ffamran? Where are you?" Coming in she opened the door to the pantry. Nothing but tall shelves and silence. She turned around into the main preparation area. A big island counter stood. A silver tray with a lid stood sat near the edge. Treska approached it like a feral animal, half curious, half terrified. Calming herself incrementally as her fingers lifted the lid, she burst into tears at what she found: Ffamran's ring with the family's crest sat solitary. Like her.

He was gone. Again.


End file.
